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‘Eighty "Decree? in the ^Kade abotfe all Rhyming Juv^tvile^ 
for Several Seasons” J^OBERr J. Burdette. 






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NEW AND TRUE 






























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WE TOOK A WALK 


(See page 124.) 


New and True 


RHYMES AND RHYTHMS 

AND HISTORIES DROLL 
FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 

FROM POLE TO POLE 


by . y 

MARY WILEY STAVER 

»1 


A 


“And childhood had its litanies 
In every age and clime ” 

— Whittier 



BOSTON 

LEE AND SHEPARD PUBLISHERS 
1892 



PRESS OF 

Kockfoell antj CJjurrfjill 



Copyright , i8qi 

By Mary Wiley Stayer 


ENGRAVINGS BY 

JOHN ANDREW AND SON CO. 


BOSTON 


BOSTON 


£3 c & t c a t c ti 


MARY 


TO 


MY NIECES 


WILEY JONES 

AND 


MARY WILEY CAMERON 









HYMES and rhythms, 
Rhythms and rhymes, 
Brazen bells, 

And silver chimes. 


What will we hear, 

And what will we see, 
If we look in this book, 
You dears, and me. 


We’ll catch the rhythms, 
As we read the rhymes, 
And laugh, perhaps, 

If we like the chimes. 

We’ll stop at each picture 
And take a good look, 

We’ll not miss one 

To the end of the book. 








LA VINIA 


llixstrated txy 


EBBINGHA USEN, 

JESSIE WILLCOX SMITH , 
JESSIE M c DERMO TT, 

J. AUGUSTUS BECK , 


HERMAN FABER. 







LIST OF POEMS 


PAGE 

A child’s song 108 

A fuss 60 

Ah-goo 42 

Ah, ME ! AH, ME ! THE SAD MISHAP 21 

A LETTER TO SANTA CLAUS . .82 

A LITTLE MOUSE . 121 

Always do right 67 

An accident 38 

A query 43 

Baby Ill 

Baby Dunn 92 

Be good 87 

Bim! bam! bum! 90 

Boy-Blue and Bo-Peep 68 

Bye-lo-land 123 

4 

Can-and-will and Can-but- won’t 135 

Chickies, chick, chick 46 

Chickie’s plea 45 

Clickety, clickety, clickety, clack 109 

COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO-O 41 

Content 54 

\ 

Cruelty . 110 

Dolly 25 


12 


LIST OF POEMS. 


DO SOMETHING GOOD TO-DAY, MY DEARS . 

DO YOUR BEST 

• 



• 

• 

PAGE 

99 

90 

Early spring 



• 



112 

Feed the helpless birdies 



• 



129 

Frisky and Flossy 



• 



91 

Good-morning 



• 



122 

Good-night 



• 



80 

Helter-skelter 






51 

Here’s a box 






79 

Here’s a dish 






34 

How LONG TO SLEEP 






120 

I can’t, said lazy Jdi . 



• 



59 

If YOU HAVE A THING TO DO . 



• 



55 

I’ll softly speak and then I’ll sigh . 



• 



41 

1 LOVE PAPA, 1 LOVE MAMMA 



• 



50 

I TOOK MY LITTLE PONY .... 



• 



2 2 

It’s raining on the mountain 



• 



37 

Jimmie McCall 



• 



89 

Kittie Whitenose 



* 



113 

Life is very fleeting .... 



• 



58 

LlNG-A-LING-A-LING— A-LING-A-LING-A-LING-A-LAY 

• 



50 

Linkum, LUMKUM, LORY .... 



• 



66 

Little Andy 



• 



44 

Little birdie on the tree 



• 



85 

Little Jack Hale said he wanted some 

FUN 


• 



56 

Little Jack Kreider .... 



• 



58 

Little Mabel 



• 



47 

Little Tilly 



• 



93 

Luraly, luraly, luraly-lee . 



• 



28 

Mother sheep loves her little lamb . 



© 



51 


LIST OF POEMS. 


13 


Naughty . 




0 

• 


PAGE 

83 

Ninety-nine .... 

. 

• 

• 

• 



36 

Now, WHAT DO YOU THINK, AND 

WHAT 

DO YOU 

THINK 




32 

Oh, me ! howe’er will I live through this 

DAY 




84 

Old Mother Brindle’s coming 

HOME 

WITH HER CALF . 



20 

Old Sir Bumblebee . 

• 

. 





20 

One day little Johnnie was working hard 





134 

One sunshiny day 







127 

Our little dog Nip . 







103 

Pedler Jim. ♦. 







86 

Poor old horsie 







31 

Pray, what’s in your basket? 







117 

Riding on a rail-car 







136 

Santa Claus in trouble . 







100 

Shut-eye-town .... 







71 

Speckle 







72 

Spring is here .... 







18 

Strike while the iron’s hot . 







116 

The alarm . . . . 







98 

The bell 







26 

The birthday .... 

* 






35 

The captive bird 







39 

The cow, the calf, and the pig . 






49 

The disagreement 







126 

The distressed owl . 







104 

The EASTER EGG 







125 

The family clock 







131 

The fox stole a goose . 



• 




128 

The hard lesson 



• 



. 

64 

The holiday 







118 


14 


LIST OF POEMS. 


PAGE 


The humming-bird and cat-bird . 

• 

© 

9 

r 

• 

76 

The lonely little maiden 

• 

• 

• 


• 

75 

The moon . . . . . 






88 

The sailor . 




• 


52 

The squirrel 






130 

The walk 






62 

The world is very beautiful 






17 

Though kindly speech may linger long 






126 

Three little goslins .... 






133 

Three little men 






91 

Time and tide 






22 

To grandma’s 






29 

Tony and Tim 






30 

Towser found a marrow-bone 






59 

Twinkum, twumkum, twankum, twerry 






23 

Twistum twatum, tweetum, twee . 






122 

Two SOBER LITTLE SISTERS 






78 

Village news 






24 

We took a walk 






124 

What do you think of my bonnet? 






70 

What they all did 






48 

Wherever I go 






40 

Winkle Wee 






106 


Note. — The following Poems were originally published in the “Christian Union”: — 



PAGE 

A LETTER TO SANTA CLADS . 

. 82 

Frisky and Flossy 

. 94 

Kitty Whitenose . . . . 

. 113 


Santa Claus in trouble 



PAGE 

. 100 

Speckle .... 

. 

. 

. 72 

Spring is here 

. 

. 

. 18 


New and True 



OR the nursery, for the hall, 


For the spring, and for the fall 


For the winter and for the summer, 

For quiet girl, and noisy drummer. 

For child and youth in every clime ; 
For old and young who have the time, 
For one alone, or all together; 

For rainy days, or shining weather. 









THE WORLD IS VERY BEAUTIFUL. 

world is very beautiful, 

I cannot tell you why; 

I only know it’s beautiful — 

The earth, the air, the sky. 

The green trees standing in the sun, 
Forming the prettiest bowers; 

The birds, half-crazed with happy song; 
And oh, the lovely flowers! 

Oh, yes, the world is beautiful, 

And I’ve just told you why; 

The song of birds, and blooming flowers, 
Green earth and soft blue sky. 

( 17 ) 


SPRING IS HERE. 



ft 


O! up and away, for Spring is here; 

The air is balmy, and skies are clear; 
Roses are budding, and birds are singing, 


And all the earth with joy seems ringing 


Grasses are growing, and soon they will wave 
On sloping banks, o’er lawn and o’er grave; 
While down in the meadow, and up on the hill, 
Are blooming the cowslip and daffodil. 

Over the rocks fresh moss is growing, 

And everywhere are violets blowing; 

While, dressed in new beauty, the stately trees 
With careless grace yield now to the breeze. 


The brooklet, unbound, hurries on to the sea, 

And, hurrying, sings in low tone its glee; 

While the sky, which hung o’er us in wintry gloom, 

Now softens to shades, which no art can presume. 

( 18 ) 


SPRING IS HERE. 


The oriole swings in his half-built nest, 

"While the blackbird sings to the one he loves best; 
And the squirrel is leaping from tree to tree, 

To see what the chance for nuts will be. 

Oh, the sights and the sounds for eye and for ear 
Fill the heart of even the beggar with cheer, 

And he quickens the pace of his lagging feet, 

As he wanders away down alley and street; 

For nature invites to the wide-spread feast 
The high and the low, the greatest and least. 

Then up and away, for Spring is here, 

And life, light, and joy are everywhere. 



( 19 ) 


OLD SIR BUMBLEBEE. 


LD Sir Bumblebee — for short, Sir 
Bum — 

Did nothing but buz, and buz r 
and hum, 

And fly about through the hazy 
air ; 

He’d buz and hum, and didn’t 
care, 

If the world rolled round, or the 
world stood still, 

Or if water ran up or down the 
hill, 

He’d buz and hum, and didn’t 
care, 

As he flew about through the hazy air. 



^\LD Mother Brindle’s coming home with her calf; 

Grandpa Sumner walks behind with his staff. 
He found Mother Brindle at the end of the wood, 
Where she has tried every day to hide, if she could. 

But Grandpa Sumner knew all about it, 

And says such habits must surely be routed. 

So old Mother Brindle can nothing else do, 

But march right along, scolding, moo-oo-o* 

( 20 ) 



A H me ! ah me! the sad mishap! 

Poor little mousie in the trap! 
Oh, mousie, mousie, if I could, 

I’d let you out, indeed I would ! 

You have been naughty, that I know; 
But I have oft been naughty, too, 

Yet ne’er was punished half like you. 
So mousie, mousie, if I could, 

I’d let you out, indeed I would. 

( 21 ) 



T IME will not wait, nor will the tide, 
Be it thy wish to sail or ride: 
Relentless still, no matter what 
Cause thy delay, or what forgot; 
Appointments made, or changed plan, — 
Time waits not for thee, boy or man. 

Remember, then, time rushing on, 

Thy promise due; time’s come, — it’s gone. 
Promise broken, pledge forgot, 

Stand abashed, excuse thee not. 

For high or low, or small or great, 

Nor time, nor tide, will ever wait. 


I TOOK my little pony, 

A And galloped down the road; 
I met a weary traveller, 

With a heavy, heavy load. 

m) 


TWINKUM, TWUNKUM, TWANKUM, TWERRY. 


I loaned the man my pony, 
On which to put his pack; 
But, alas, alas! my pony 
Has never yet come back. 



T WINKUM, twunkum, twankum, twerry ; 
Here’s a peach, and there’s a cherry; 
Here’s an apple, and there’s a pear ; 
Here’s a monkey, and there’s a bear. 
Twinkum, twunkum, twankum, twerry, 
This is funny, ain’t it? Very. 

( 23 ) 


* 



’YE been to the village and 
heard the news: 

Myra Malone has a pair of 
new shoes; 

Fannie McNulty and Patrick 
McNair 

Hired a carriage and drove to 
the fair; 

The Misses Yan Hatten have 
opened a school, 

But no child in the village 
likes the new rule, — 

A black mark to their names, 
put there as a fine, 

If not in their seats when the 
clock strikes nine; 

Annie Caskadden has got a 
new bonnet, 

With a bit of bright ribbon 
and two feathers on it; 



( 24 ) 


DOLLY. 


Mary De Long has a pretty brown cloak, 

A gift from her aunt living down in Pembroke; 
They’ve got a new clerk in Binghamton’s store, 
And a beautiful knocker on Mullison’s door. 

I met Martha Glibb, and I could not refuse 
To stop just a bit while she told me the news. 


DOLLY. 

e OOK at my charming dolly, 

She came across the sea ; 

This darling, lovely dolly 
My grandma gave to me. 

To think how very far she came, — 

Across the wide, wide sea ! 

And over many miles of land, 

To make her home with me ! 

And oh, I love her so, 

My own dear, precious dolly ! 

Her name ! I never thought of that; 
Her name ! why, it is Dolly ! 

( 25 ) 



THE BELL. 


O N their way to church one day, 

While ding, dong, rang the bell, 
Two young lasses, gayly dressed, 
Into gossip fell. 

A stranger walking near the twain 
Listening to the bell, 

Hearing, too, the flippant talk, 

Into re very fell. 

Soon three tongues seemed clamoring 
With something strong to tell ; 

He vainly tried to heed them all, 

Then yielded to the bell, 

And tells below, in plainest word, 

Advice which from the bell he heard, 
Though changed in rhythm as it fell 
In ding-dongs from the stately bell. 

Ding, dong, says the bell, 

All you hear never tell, 

Never tell, never tell ; 

Ding, dong, remember well, 

All you hear never tell; 

Ding, dong ; fare-you-well. 
( 26 ) 





LURALY, LURALY, LURALY-LEE. 



Din 


g, dong, says the bell, 

Whispered news never tell, 

Never tell, never tell ; 

Ding, dong, remember well, 

Whispered news never tell ; 

Ding, dong ; fare-you-well. 


Still resounds the strange refrain, 

Ding, dong ; come again, 

Come again, but never tell 
All you hear, says the bell ; 

Never tell, never tell; 

Ding, — dong, — fare-you-well. 



URALY, luraly, luraly-lee; 

It’s a wonderful, wonderful mystery! 

All nature is working with industry, 

But the little girl under the apple-tree. 

The humming-bird hums it, and so does the 
bee, 

Luraly, luraly, luraly-lee ; 

We are all as busy as busy can 
be, 

little girl under the apple-tree ; 

Luraly, luLaly, luraly, luraly-lee, 

The little girl 1 under the apple-tree. 

( 28 ) 


But tht 


; 



TO GRANDMA’S. 

T’LL tell you of the little girl 
' Who’s hurrying through the grass 
The nearest way, — she likes it best, — 
The earnest little lass. 

We call her Mary Margaret, 

A very stately name; 

She calls herself just Mamie, 

Which answers all the same. 

( 29 ) 



TONY AND TIM. 


She’s going oyer to Grandma’s 
With her little basket, 

Where anything the darling wants 
She only needs to ask it. 

If hungry for a cookie, 

Or dolly needs some clothes, 

And no one else can give them, 

She straight to Grandma goes. 

Soon with her little basket 
Filled to overflowing, 
Crowded in and packed down, 
Homeward she’ll be going. 

And Grandma gets such precious pay 
In love and sweetest kisses! 

Of these the darling gives, and gives, 

And gives, and never misses. 


n-'ONY and Tim, 

1 And Jerry and Jim, 

Are down in the meadow mowing ; 
Apples and cherries, 

And juniper berries, 

Are out in my garden growing. 

( 30 ) 



P OOR old horsie, 

Turned out to die ! 

A shame ! oh, ’tis cruel ! 

I hear you all cry. 

For years he was faithful 
To his master, and true ; 
Ne’er shirking his work, 

And the hardest work, too. 

Instead, now, of standing 
Half starved in the cold, 
Neglected, forgotten, 

Since useless and old, 

( 31 ) 


WHAT DO YOU THINK. 


He ought to be favored, 

And sheltered from harm ; 
Have the choicest of food, 
And best stall in the barn. 

A shame ! oh, how cruel ! 

Let all the world cry, 

To leave the poor horsie 
In the cold there to die ! 



"KIOW, what do you think, and what do you think, 

* * My little kitten does nothing but wink! 

She winks in the morning, and winks at noon; 

She winks at the sun, and winks at the moon; 

She winks when she eats, and winks when she drinks, 
And I never can guess in the least what she thinks. 

( 32 ) 



fsA Y fingers all are naughty ; 
* ' I’ll punish every one. 

O nursie ! what will mamma 
say? 

eTust see what they have 
done ! 



They broke that pretty china mug ! 

My naughty fingers did : 

They let it fall, I could not help ; 

They broke the mug and lid ! 

Alas, alas ! a sad mistake ! 

Could they tell, they’d say ’twas you. 
Your little fingers servants are ; 

What you command, they do. 

When you no naughty wishes have, 

Or ill commands to fill, 

How calmly in your lap they lie ! 

How innocent and still ! 

But when too curious you become 
To see those things forbid, 

Your will commands, they quick obey ; 
Behold, a broken mug and lid ! 

( 33 ) 


HERE’S A DISH. 


Then let your mind, dear child, dictate 
To those willing servants ten, 

To let alone, or work for good, — 
What glad results will follow then ! 



H ERE’S a dish, 

With a fish 
Nicely laid upon it. 

Kitty winks, 

And no doubt thinks 
She’d like to feast upon it. 

( 34 ) 




THE BIRTHDAY. 

TH the fall of the year, when the woods are ablaze 
With the beauty of autumn, and the air is all haze, 

In a month that’s more beautiful even than May, 

This dear little girl celebrates her birthday. 

She is waiting, you see, for her playmates to come 
And join in the pleasures and plays of her home. 

The day will be happy, many returns may there be, 

But soon she will change from the child that you see. 

For the years they will come, and the years they will go, 
Fly they ever so fast, or creep they but slow, 

And her childhood will fade, like a dream far away; 

And yet it may be on some future birthday 
That still the same likeness we clearly may trace 
’Twixt the woman full grown and this dear little face., 

( 35 ) 



N INETY little blackbirds sitting on a tree, 

Nothing ever like it seen by you or me. 

Another little blackbird — I cannot say where from — 
Came and sat amongst them, making ninety-one. 

Then every little blackbird tuned its cheery voice, 

And joined a song of gladness, to show each could rejoice 
Because another little bird was added to the crowd. 

At first they sang quite softly, then sang out clear and loud. 

Then another little blackbird, flying from afar, 

Came and joined the merry ones — it never made a jar. 

Each little bird was happy, each little heart was true, 

And now it’s plain as can be, there were just ninety-two. 

And still another blackbird, as if from out a cloud, 

Came suddenly amongst them, singing sweet and loud. 

Again, if you will count, you’ll quite agree with me, 

This cheery flock of blackbirds now numbered ninety-three. 

Then I heard the wind blow; but as merry as could be 
Were those happy little blackbirds, singing on that tree. 
Another came and joined them since I had shut the door, 
And so, you see, with that one, there were just ninety-four. 

036 ^ 


NINETY-NINE. 


Their song so full of welcome, and full of glad refrain, 

Was tuned to meet another, as I looked out again. 

And ninety-five blithe voices were carolling so sweet, 

Their song filled all the air of wood, and vale, and street. 

The people paused to listen, and in their hearts felt glad 
That of all those little blackbirds not one was dull or sad. 
And here I’ll pause to tell you another quickly came, — 

They never asked where from, or sought to know his name. 

Ninety-six in all you see, — the number here was even, — 

But quick as thought another came, making ninety-seven. 

The more of us the merrier, their motto seemed to be, 

As, glad and happy, singing, they sat upon the tree. 

Another little blackbird, afraid of being late, 

Came hurriedly among them, making ninety-eight. 

Then still another joined them in their happy song, 

Singing clear and sweetly, and singing low and long. 

Then all the little blackbirds — the weather now was fine — 
Flew away together, a flock of ninety-nine. 

But where the songsters went to, or where they meant to go, 
If ever I’m informed, I’ll surely let you know. 


I 


T’S raining on the mountain; 

There’s sunshine in the valley ; 


It’s dusty in the wide, wide street, 
And stony in the alley. 


( 37 ) 


AN ACCIDENT. 




URRY, hurry, hurry, come! 

Baby got a 
fall; 

Hurry, papa; 
hurry, mam- 
ma; 

Hurry, one and 
all. 

Sitting there contentedly, 
Looking at his toes; 

Then, trying hard to pick one up, 
Off the stool he goes ! 

Papa lifts poor baby up; 

Mamma claps her hands; 
Little sister sings to him, 

While brother laughing stands. 

For baby looks so very droll, 
Frowning at them all; 

As if he thought each one to 
blame 

For his astounding fall. 

( 38 ) 




THE CAPTIVE BIRD. 


O H dear! oh dear! said Nannie Brown; 

Oh dear! oh dear! said Mary; 

Our little pet will fly away, 

Unless we’re wise and wary. 

E’er since we put him in the cage 
He tries the bars and door; 

A prisoner he has never been 
In all his life before. 

And listen to his mournful “tweek”! 

And see his panting breast! 

Ah me! perhaps he’s thinking of 
His playmates in the nest. 

( 39 ) 



WHEREVER I GO. 


The nest high in that old oak-tree, 
From which he fell that day; 

I wonder could he find it, if 
We’d let him fly away? 

Poor little bird! I pity him; 

I’ll let him out, I think. 

Ho ! there, he’s off*, our captive pet, 
As quick as you can wink. 


WHEREVER I GO. 

HEREYER I go, wherever 
I look, 

Up on the tree, on the 
ground, in the brook, 
Something is living, and 
everything trying, 
With climbing, with 
creeping, with swim- 
ming, with flying, 
Some object to win, some duty to do ; 

Wise teaching of lesson to me and to you. 

The iow humming bee, the bonnie wee bird, 

The sheep in the fold, the cows in the herd — 
Active and earnest, each one at their best, 

Till obiect attained unmindful of rest. 

( 40 ) 




G OCK-a-doodle-doo-o ! 

Who said it was not true? 
Do I know best — or you? 
Cock-a-doodle-doo-o ! 


I ’LL softly speak, and then I’ll sigh; 

I’ll louder speak, and then I'll cry; 
Then I’ll laugh, and then I’ll sing, 
And make the air with noises ring. 

( 41 ) 


H ERE’S a dear little boy, 
not quite a year old, — 
A droll little fellow, — he laughs, 
and can scold. 

His language is odd, but he 
knows no other; 

Strange, too, for it’s not the one used by his mother. 

He talks it to me, he’ll talk it to you, 

This droll little fellow, — his name is Ah-Goo. 

Ah-Goo is his language, Ah-Goo is his name ; 

At least, if you ask him, he’ll say they’re the same. 

He’s as bright as can be, indeed, quite a king 
In our house, where he rules without signet or ring. 

He rules and he reigns ; no autocrat stern 

Has a temper more quick or a will that’s more firm. 

Yet no laugh is more joyous, no smile is more sweet, 

Than that of Ah-Goo. If you’ll act but discreet, 

And ne’er let him know that your crossing his will, 

He’ll think, through it all, that he’s head ruler still. 

You see, he’s so young, with age he’ll grow wise, 

And so fast learn to obey, ’twill be a surprise. 

Then with grace he’ll submit, at home and at school, 

As he learns the sound wisdom that elders must rule. 

( 42 ) 




A QUERY. 


I F I were a little bird 
Sitting on a tree ; 

A robin, or a sparrow, 

A wren, or chickadee; 

Or if I were a kitten, 

Or my little dog, Bow-Wow, 
Would I feel as happy 
As I am feeling now? 

( 43 ) 


LITTLE ANDY. 



(+ 4 ) 


h ITTLE Andy, 

Quite a dandy, 
Dressed from hat to shoes, 
In suit quite new, — 
You see it’s true; 

And this is all the news, 


Oh, no ! there’s more : 
Bound at the store, 
The bill for hat and shoes, 
And all the clothes, 

As Andy knows, 

Is paid, — and that's the news. 



CHICKIE’S PLEA. 

t^^VEEKETY, peekety, peekety boo! 

Whose little chickie, I wonder, are yon? 

I am my mother’s own dear little chick ; 

She taught me to scratch, to hunt, and to pick. 
Eight here in the garden, she says, is the best 
Of any one place in the east or the west 
To find the fat worms and nicest rich seeds, 

And where I can rest under plants and thick weeds. 
’Tis here I’ve been coming on every fine day; 

So please, pretty mistress, don’t drive me away. 

( 45 ) 


CHICKIES, CHICK , CHICK. 


The cows have their pasture, the geese have their plot, 
And the horses and colts are out in the lot ; 

The dog and old kitty roam about without fear, 

And where should I go, if I dare not come here? 

Then please, pretty mistress, — please don’t, 1 pray, 

Be cruel to me, and drive me away. 



HICKIES, chick, chick! 
Come and eat quick. 



One and all, make haste to come, 

Here’s a worm, and there’s a crumb. 
Here are more ! oh, what a feast ! 

For each of you three crumbs at least ! 
Make haste and eat, and then to bed, 
My chickies dear. Each little head 
Must soon be nestled, snug and warm, 
Under my wings, all safe from harm. 


( 46 ) 


LITTLE MABEL. 



I ~ ITTLE Mabel, 

At the table, 
Sitting with her teacher; 
On the floor, 

Near the door, 

Baby tries to reach 
her. 


( 47 ) 



L ITTLE Harry 
Said he’d tarry 
Till the sun had set. 
Johnny Dunn 
Said he’d run, 

The grass was getting 

Little Laura 
Had a sorrow 
She told to cousin Mary: 

Her bird was sick, — 

It was no trick, — 

Her little pet canary. 

"Willie Clair, 

On a chair, 

"Was tired, jumping round. 

Tommie Flick, 

Funning quick, 

Fell upon the ground. 

Little Andy, 

Smart and handy, 

Went to sell some papers. 

Little Jake 
Ate a cake, 

Then cut some funny capers. 

( 48 ) 


THE COW ; THE CALF , ^VZ> THE PIG. 

Jimmie Twist 
Made a fist 
At his little brother; 

Harry Lane 
Saw it plain, 

And ran home to his mother. 

Annie Leech 
Found a peach, — 

A beauty, ripe and mellow, — 

As the leaves 
On the trees 

Were turning red and yellow. 

In the lane, 

Annie Crane 
Found a pretty flower. 

Annie Brown 
W ent to town, 

And stayed there half an hour. 



HE cow, the calf, and the 

Pig 

Went out to the field to- 
gether; 

" This is very nice grass,” said 
the calf ; 

Said the pig, " It is very nice 
weather.” 


( 49 ) 


"V 


V 


.V17* 



) papa; J, 1 

mama, 

mg brothers er 
sisters too.- 
aO! mg cousims, « 
. ererg owe, 

uwtes axxb cumis, 
att$ goti. 


T ^ ING-a-ling-a-ling-a-ling-a-ling-a-ling-a-lay ! 

Don’t you hear sly kitty coming, birdie? Fly away ! 
Around her neck I put that bell, that you might quickly hear 
When, in her wish to catch you quick, she comes so slyly near. 
Then hearken to the bell, birdie; ling-a-ling-a-lay ! 

Take warning when you hear it, and quickly fly away. 

( 50 ) 



H elter-skelter i 

Pell-mell ! 

Where are they going, — 
Who can tell, — 

That eager boy 
And merry girls ? 

Rosy faces, 

Flying curls ; 

Eager boy, 

Happy girls. 

Helter-skelter ! 

Pell-mell ! 

Where are they going ? 

Who can tell ? 


n OTHER sheep loves her little lamb, 
And Tabby loves her kitty ; 
Bantam’s pets have grown too large, 
Isn’t that a pity! 

( 51 ) 




THE SAILOR. 

" ^TKlCK, lock,” 

A Says the clock, 
On the mantel standing. 

” Hick, hock, 

Here’s the dock,” 

Says the sailor, landing. 

( 52 ) 


THE SAILOR. 



Sailor just got home from sea, 

"What’s the time of day?” asks he. 

Faster, faster ticks the clock, 

Sailor hurries from the dock. 

And while the clock strikes one, two, three, 
The sailor just gets home to tea. 

( 53 ) 



CONTENT. 


OTHER Whisker went up 
to the garret 
And caught two fine 
little mice, 

Which she gave to her 
darling kitties, 

Who ate them, and 
said, K Oh, how 
nice ! ” 

At sunrise, one beau- 
tiful morning, 
Mother Robin flew off 
to hunt food ; 

She found some fat 
worms for her bird- 
ies, 

Who ate them, and 
said, " Oh, how 
good ! ” 

The little calf down in 
the meadow, 

Eating the grass and 
the clover, 

Said, w Anything better than this 

Can never be found the world over ! ” 

( 54 ) 




IF YOU HAVE A THING TO DO. 


Little lame Mabel De Lony, 

Eating her milk and her bread, 

As she looked at the flowers near her, 

And felt the warm sun overhead, 

Said, ” Oh, but this world is beautiful ! 

And oh, but our God is good ! 

He gives us just all we can wish for, — 

The flowers and sunshine, our clothing and food.” 

But "Willie Malone, the banker’s son, 

Eating his rich cream pie, 

Said, ”1 wish I had plum cake and candy, 

Or jelly with cream, — oh dear, oh my ! ” 


I F you have a thing to do, 

Do it, do it, do it ! 

Be prompt and ready in your act, 
And you will never rue it. 

If a kindly word you’d say, 

Say it, say it, say it ! 

Friends are passing fast away, 

Oh, do not then delay it. 

Whatever, then, you have to do, 
Do it, do it, do it ! 

Duty really is not hard, 

If rightly we will view it. 

( 55 ) 


4 



E 


ITTLE Jack Hale said he wanted some fun, 
And started off bravely on a fast run. 

He ran down the yard and across the field ; 
He ran against piggy, and poor piggy squealed. 
He ran through the valley, and ran past the mill, 
Then over the bridge and up a high hill, 

Just over the top of which hung the moon, 

Which Jack was quite sure he’d reach very soon. 


From the top of the hill, to his surprise, 

Higher and higher the moon seemed to rise ; 

Jack stood for a while looking up at the sky, 

Too much of a man to whimper and cry. 

Another brisk run soon brought him back 

To the bars of the fence, where he met teasing Mack. 

Ho, ho! little boy, what came of your run ? 

Just all that I went for, — a great deal of fun. 

( 56 ) 



LITTLE JACK HALE. 


( 57 ) 


LITTLE JACK KREIDER. 



horse and his rider, 
Little Jack Kreider, 

Are on their way to the fair ; 
The weather is hazy, 

And the horse a bit lazy — 
When do you think they’ll get 
there ? 



IFE is very fleeting; 

Duties multiply; 

Watch the passing moments, 
Catch them as they fly. 


For each one has a value, — 

A value all its own ; 

And never the same moment 

Comes back when once ’thas flown. 

( 58 ) 



T OWSER found a marrow-bone, 
Royer found some bacon ; 
Each is happy o’er his luck, 
Or else I am mistaken. 


I CAN’T, said lazy Jim ; 

By and by, said careless Joe; 
I shan’t, said pouting Tim ; 

I’ll try, said little Chloe. 

( 59 ) 




T HE chickens, the roosters, and rabbits, 

Usually all of good habits, ? 

Were under some mystic delusion, / 

All running around in confusion. 

The chickens declared they laid all the eggs, 

Which the roosters sustained, standing stiff on their legs. 

All said it was so, while they cackled and crowed, 

And great indignation every single hen showed. 

The poor little rabbits, whose eyes with fear glistened, 
Anxious and troubled, sat still and listened; 

Said, " Something is wrong, and they’re angry at us, 

But, surely, we’re not the cause of this fuss ! ” 

Still they were made to feel guilty, but of no known wrong. 
They had not heard how ’twas said in sentence and song 
That the Easter eggs, all of bewildering beauty, 

Were laid by the rabbits who then were on duty. 

For years, and for years, I believe it’s been said 
That those beautiful eggs by the rabbits are laid, — 

Eggs of all colors, red eggs, green eggs, and blue. 

The chickens were angry, and said ’twas not true. 

( 60 ) 



A FUSS. 


Of the matter ’twas plain at last they had heard, 

And, jnst like a chicken, believed every word. 

The rabbits still listened in wild consternation, 

While a rooster seemed reading a strong proclamation, 
Through which he declared, as I understand, 

He meant to inform all the folks in the land 
Especially the children and bright, laughing youth, 

Of something they knew not, but still a great truth : 

That the eggs, — all the eggs, — all the beautiful eggs 
Here the rooster, still standing very stiff on his legs, 

Seemed so full of the secret he meant to betray, 

That I really thought best to hurry away, 

And listen no further to the pitiful fuss, 

Which you and I know was not caused by us, 

But just leave the chickens, the roosters, and rabbits 
Alone, and they’d soon get back to good feelings and habits. 



( 61 ) 



THE WALK. 

S AID Louisa to Jane, 

"Let us walk down the lane. 

And look for some grasses and wild-flowers sweet. 

( 62 ) 




THE WALK. 


Besides, there are cherries, 

And sweet, early berries, 

Which I know we can get, if hungry, to eat.” 

So they walked down the lane, 

Louisa and Jane, 

As cheerful and happy as e’er they could be. 

They gathered bright flowers, 

While fast flew the hours, 

Then hurried at last to the old cherry-tree. 

They looked with keen eyes, 

But, to their surprise, 

On that tree there was not a single red cherry. 

Then they quick hurried hence, 

Across the low fence, 

And in through the bushes ; but, lo ! not a berry 

Could the little girls find! 

Then, both of one mind, 

They started for home, saying, the dear little birds 
Had eaten the cherries, 

And all the sweet berries; 

But further than this they wasted no words. 

For, friends, don’t you see, 

’Twixt you and just me, 

They thought, as we do, that the birds and the bees 
May eat of the berries, 

And currants and cherries, 

Wherever they find them, on bushes and trees. 

( 63 ) 


THE HARD LESSON. 


(U 1 


'ILL any one tell me, if any one’s able, 

Who ever invented this wonderful table? 
Multiplication they call it; I never heard 
Of so many letters mixed up in one word. 

The learning to spell it was a whole week’s task ; 
And to learn these figures ! just please let me ask 
What does it all mean, any way ? — twice one’s two ! 

How funny it sounds ; and then, is it true ? 

Ah, well, I must learn it ; and twice two’s four. 
There’s crazy Jack Wilbur looking in at the door; 
Though crazy, they say he’s up to all tricks — 

Oh, dear ! teacher’s looking ; twice three’s six. 

Will Hasser and Tom are coming in late, 

They’ll both get black marks; twice four’s eight. 

’Tis such a bright morning ! Oh, there go two men 
With rods to catch bass ; ah me, twice five’s ten, 

And twice six are twelve. Oh, but this is hard work 

And up to his eyes went Tim’s hand with a jerk. 

Twice fourteen are seven — oh, no, that’s all wrong, 
This table is just like some dreary old song. 

Twice seven are fourteen, I guess that is right, 
lapok out there, Jim Hill and Will Trone’ll soon have 
Who’s outside, I wonder ! Oh, Little Joe Green ; 
He’s back from his grandpa’s. Twice eight’s sixteen, 
Twice nine are eighteen, and twice ten are twenty. 
I’m going for chestnuts, I know they are plenty 
In Felligan’s woods. Twice eleven’s twenty-two. 
There, now, hurrah ! I am almost through 





LINKUM, LUNKUM, LORY. 


With this column, at least ; but oh, what a bore 
To learn lessons like this ! Twice twelve’s twenty-four. 
Just then the bell rang, and, with a sharp snap, 

Tim shut up the book and looked for his cap, 

Forgetting at once multiplication and rule, 

As he quickly rushed forward and bounced out of school. 


vUM, lunkum, lory ; 

Charlie told a story. 

Twinkum, twunkum, twooth ; 
Willie told the truth. 

Bitter, batter, butter-bread ; 

Charlie said the moon was red. 
Peaches soft, and ripe, and mellow ; 
Willie said the moon was yellow. 
Yimper, yamper, yumper, yo ; 
Charlie said ink looked like snow. 

Yinkum, yankum, yunkum, yak ; 

Willie said that ink was b]ack. 

Charlie said, "Yow listen, please, — 

The bread we eat grows on the trees.” 

Willie said he’d heard and read 
That bakers always baked the bread. 

Charlie said, "Well, I declare, 

The tailor made a wooden chair ! ” 

Willie said, and I’m sure he knows, 

That tailors only make men’s clothes. 

Willie was right, and Charlie wrong, 

And here must end my little song. 

( 66 ) 






To be running away from your lessons at school, 
And say to yourself of this or that rule, 


They’re too strict, and too hard, for you to obey, 

Or, if such are the lessons, you never can play. 

An industrious boy or girl, all the same, 

]No matter what station, or under what name, 

They’re living and learning, should learn to do right. 
Do all you are told ; do it well, — with your might, — 
And as you grow older and larger each day, 

You’ll find time for all work, and some left for play. 

Then be faithful at work, and faithful at school, 

And never complain about lesson or rule, 

And under this motto of "Always do Right,” 

The conscience torments not, but rests day and night. 

( 67 ) 


BOY-BLUE AND BO-PEEP. 




A^ ITTLE Boy-Blue 
and little Bo- 
Peep, 

Both sent out to 
watch some 
sheep. 

I cannot say were they sister 
and brother, 

Or whether, indeed, they knew 
each other. 

Both had trouble, and this is 
the way 

It came to little Boy-Blue one 
day: 

He carried a horn while he 
watched the sheep, 

But the day was warm and he fell asleep. 



The sheep strayed off, and the naughty cows, too, 
In charge of this herdsman, little Boy-Blue, 

And wandered away to the meadow and corn, 

For they saw no watcher and heard no horn. 


Soon the good farmer came hurrying along, 
Hearing no whistle and hearing no song, 
For always, as happy as bird on the wing, 
Little Boy-Blue would whistle or sing. 

( 68 ) 


BOY-BLUE AND BO-PEEP. 


" Ho ! ho ! little shepherd ! Ho, little Boy-Blue ! 

Is this the way you always do? 

Is this the way you mind your sheep, 

Under the hay-stack fast asleep?” 

The farmer forgave it, he knew a warm day 
Was a great temptation to sleep on the hay; 

But neglect of duty by me or by you 

Will always bring trouble as it did to Boy-Blue. 

But a sorrow far greater befell Bo-Peep, 

Who, too, as you’ve heard, had charge of some sheep. 
What she had been doing or where she went, 

Whether going herself or was hurriedly sent 

On an errand, it may be, by some one or other — 

Her father, perhaps, or — well, perhaps by her brother, 
She came back as fast as ever she could, 

Then looked for her sheep in meadow and wood, 

Calling and coaxing, and then began crying; 

Her sheep might be lost or every one dying. 

Some teasing boy, then just coming in sight, 

Saw little Bo-Peep, and learned of her plight. 

Then his voice how it rang, 

As he teasingly sang, 

"Ho! Little Bo-Peep 
Has lost her sheep, 

And don’t know where to find them. 

Let them alone, 

And they’ll come home 
With all their tails behind them.” 

( 69 ) 


WHAT DO YOU THINK OF MY BONNET ? 


” Oh, dear ! ” sighed Bo-Peep, ” if they only would come, 
Then I’d hurry along and take them all home, 

And no happier girl could ever be found 
For millions and millions of miles all around.” 

But alas! with sorrow we have to conclude, 

That naughty boy’s prophecy, cruel and rude, 

Was not fulfilled; and little Bo-Peep 
Has never yet found her long-lost sheep, 

As from tidies on chairs, and pictures on walls, 

In a great many rooms, and wide, spacious halls, 

With sad, earnest eyes, poor little Bo-Peej) 

Still looks far away for her wandering sheep. 



I borrowed them all from mamma. 

The reason I’ll quickly make known: 
I wanted to see how I’ll look 

When I to a woman have grown. 

( 70 ) 


HAT do you think of my 
bonnet? 

And how do you like my 
new shawl? 

And oh ! this most beauti- 
ful dress ! 

Of course they’re not mine 
— not at all. 



C'l) 





Belligerent in feeling towards women and men. 

" I made me a nest, in the old shed yonder, 

Which to the rest of the hens was a wonder 
Of cunning and neatness, and hidden away 
From all prying eyes and the bright glare of day ; 

And in it I laid, always cackling out loud, 

Ten beautiful eggs, of which I was proud.” 

So fast clamored Speckle — that was her name — 

She quite lost her breath, but found it again. 

She cackled and clacked till round her she drew, 

With worry and wonder, the whole of the crew 
Of barn-yard loungers. Then her story she told. 

Said she would not have given those ten eggs for gold. 
She screamed it out louder and louder each minute: 
"My nest had ten eggs, now nothing is in it.” 

Here Shanghai Jack came hurrying along 
To learn, if he could, who had done Speckle wrong. 
Jack was a chap of much barn-yard renown, 

Had the longest of legs and a very high crown, 

Was of foreign extraction, of which he was proud, 
Walked always with boldness and crowed very loud. 

He held his head loftily up in the air, 

And mostly took Speckle hen under his care. 

( 72 ) 


SPECKLE. 


"Oh, Jack, only think, those ten beautiful eggs, 

In my nest hidden there, between barrels and kegs, 

Are stolen away. I suspect now that woman, 

Who wanders about like a bird of ill- omen, 

Took them out for her mistress, who’ll take them away 
To market to-morrow, — I know it’s the day.” 

Here old Prince Dominique, who’d been taking a nap, 

Was suddenly roused by the crowing of Jack. 

The snap in Jack’s voice, in full pity with Speckle, 

Dominique took for a challenge, which quick roused his mettle. 
He was a fowl of much spirit and beauty, 

And never was known to fail in his duty. 

Standing stiff on his feet, and with head thrown back, 

Like an echo he answered the bold voice of Jack. 

Soon old Mother Partlet, who wore a high ruff 
Very full round her neck, and stiff as a cuff, 

Half running, half flying, came hurrying along. 

She’d seen much of the world, of its right and its wrong, 

And thought but a hint of the wonderful clatter 

Would reveal who was right and who wrong in the matter. 

Once more little Speckle related her trouble, 

Said her hopes of a brood had burst like a bubble, 

And wondered that in the whole world could be found — 

The world that’s so large, so heavy and round, 

Amongst all the women and children and men — 

A heart hard enough to so treat a poor hen. 

It took but a moment for Partlet to think, — 

No longer, indeed, than it takes you to wink. 

She soothed little Speckle as well as she could. 

Said worrying and fretting ne’er did any good ; 

That, though things often go wrong, they end much better 
Than ever we think, which is true to the letter. 

( 73 ) 


SPECKLE. 


Then she hurried away to that nest in the shed, 

For, though not a bit handsome, she had a wise head, 

And knew that sometimes the mistress thought best 
To exchange all the eggs she found in a nest, 

And thought to herself that a pitiful brood 

From eggs such as Speckle’s were not worth their food, 

And was feeling quite sure an exchange had been made 
Of the tiny round eggs which Speckle had laid. 

She glanced in the nest and found it was true, — 

A fact that was hailed with Cock-a-doodle-doo 
By Jack, who had also walked out to the shed, 

To see for himself all the facts, as he said. 

Little Speckle looked into the nest with surprise, 

And said she could scarcely believe her own eyes, 

There had something so strange and mysterious been done, — 
The most wonderful thing, indeed, under the sun ; 

But the hope of a brood once more filled her breast, 

And, low clucking her joy, sat down on the nest. 



( 74 ) 



THE LONELY LITTLE MAIDEN. 

L ONELY little maiden, 

Sitting on the strand, 

Sees the vessels come and go, 

And thinks of Fatherland. 

Sitting thinking all the day, 

So lonely by the sea ; 

This country is not home to her 
That’s home to you and me. 

Some day the ship that brought her here 
Will come back to the strand, 

And take the little maiden home 
To her dear Fatherland. 

( 75 ) 



O NE bright, fair day in summer, 

A happy little hummer, 

Flying here and flying there 
It seemed that he was everywhere; 

Quoth he, this happy hummer, 

"For me, too, was made the summer, 

And the vines and charming flowers 
That shade and screen the quiet bowers,” 

And like a flash flew here and there, 

Still humming through the balmy air. 

A cat-bird near, in gloomy mood, 

Called out, " I think you’re very rude. 

Yes, indeed, I think it quite 
Rude, and bold, and impolite, 

In others’ presence to be humming, 

For others’ going or their coming 
Caring naught, but flashing, flying, 

All opinions bold defying, 

As if for none but you the sun were shining, 
For none but you the vines were twining, 

( 76 ) 


THE HUMMING-BIRD AND CAT-BIRD. 


You bold, pretentious little hummer, 

The proudest pest of all the summer.” 

The cat-bird felt too cross to sing, 

Felt just too cross for anything 
But sit and grumble on that twig, 

While hummer never cared a fig, 

But went right on, bright flashing here and there, 
With his low humming filling still the air, 

And giving joy, the charming little fellow, 

To boy and man, who wondered were they green, or 
yellow, 

Or deeply blue, or burnished were with gold, 

Those feathers tiny, seeming no dress for warm or cold, 
But clothed him grander than a king, 

This tiny hummer on the wing. 

Still grumbling, there the cat-bird sat, 

Wasting time, jealous, that was pat. 

Soon the sunshine and the balmy air, 

Showing all the world so glad and fair, 

From his little heart all anger banished; 

With it, too, his jealousy soon vanished; 

Then, tuning sweet his little voice, 

Soon touched and made the hearts of all rejoice 
To hear him sing, with hearty will, 

Till all the air he seemed to fill 
With one glad, unbroken, happy strain, 

’Till encore, encore, with might and main, 

Called man and boy, soon forgetting 
Their late love, and naught regretting 
Little hummer’s flight and flashing wings. 

So much for one who hums or one who sings. 



T WO sober little sisters 

Are going out to walk, 

Almost afraid to smile a bit, 
Almost afraid to talk, 

Because their nursie said to them, 

If they’d be very good, 

They two might walk alone, for once, 
Down to the hemlock wood. 

She soon would follow after, 

With lunch of something nice, 

And, with her quicker footstep, 
O’ertake them in a trice. 

( 78 ) 


HERE'S A BOX. 


That’s why, with sober faces, 

They scarcely talk or smile ; 

For, though it’s but a rod or two, 
They think it full a mile. 



& 


ERE’S a box, 

I wonder what’s in it; 

Open the lid, 

And you’ll see in a minute. 

( 79 ) 



GOOD NIGHT. 


]"") OBED in her night-dress, little Jane Wright 
* ^ Called out sweetly, "All friends, good-night.” 
"Good-night, birdie,” her papa had said, 

Kissing her cheek and patting her head. 

" Good-night, darling,” with gentle caress, 

Came mamma’s kiss and sweet "God bless.” 

"Peekety, peekety, peep, peep, peep,” 

Whispered the chickies we thought asleep. 

" Tweet, tweet, twee, twee, twee,” 

Chirruped the birdie up on the tree. 

"Twack, twack, tweek, tweek, tweek,” 

Answered the duckies close by the creek. 

"Gobble, gobble, gubble, gubble, gubble,” 

Croaked the turkies half asleep in the stubble. 

From doggie was heard a low "Bow-wow,” 

And " Moo-o, moo-o,” called the barn-yard cow. 

"Meouw, meouw,” moaned kittie, at rest on the mat, 
Nursing her foot, just hurt in a trap. 

" Trut, trut,” scolded old chanticleer ; 

" What does it mean ! What all do I hear ! ” 

" How stupid you are,” said the hen by his side ; 

"’Tis good-night that is said o’er the world far and wide.” 
" Oh ! if that is the case, I’ll say good-night too,” 

And, loud as he could, crowed, " Cock-a-doodle-doo-o.” 


( 80 ) 



( 81 ) 



D EAR, good Santa Claus, 

The girls, and we boys, 

Are longing for Christmas, which, no doubt, you know. 
Still I’ll send you a letter; 

Could I only write better! — 

But I promised, and back on my word I can’t go. 

Of myself I’ll not write, — 

’Twere not meek nor polite; 

But I’ll tell you of some who friends greatly lack; 

And I know that with you 
Quite a small hint will do 
To make you fill tighter and higher your pack. 

There’s poor Willie Clickett, 

Once smart as a cricket, 

Now lame and bed-ridden for many a day; 

To be happy he tries, 

But with tears in his eyes 

He whispers of pain, and I cease to feel gay. 

( 82 ) 


A LETTER TO SANTA CLAUS. 


Oh, please don’t forget 
To stop there, and let 

Some of your very best goods at their door. 

Some little books, too, 

Quite plain ones will do, 

And AVillie will read them, and -wish there were more. 

And poor ragged Dick, 

And Annie who’s sick. 

They live in the cottage just back of the mill. 

You’ll see what they need, 

I’m sure, for indeed — 

Well, the nearest way for you is over the hill. 

And there’s widow Blainie, 

With little boy Jamie. 

Their larder is empty, and so is their bin. 

She washes clothes and scrubs floors, 

And Jamie does chores, 

For they’re dreadfully poor — I heard so from him. 

They’ve never a mite, 

From morning till night, 

More than bread made of corn-meal and coffee of rye. 
True, it keeps them from starving, 

But they’ve never a farthing 
Left them for extras after clothing they buy. 

And, oh, I forgot! 

Too bad, is it not? 

There’s Davie and Jakie, Eugenie and Ben, 

And Maggie, and Clara, 

And Katie O’Hara, 

And Alice and Zadie, all live in the glen. 

( 83 ) 


“ do not: 


They’re watching and waiting, 

And much they are prating 
Of Christinas, and all things that make it so gay; 
Of sweetmeats and toys 
That good Santa Claus 

Has promised to bring them when once on his way. 

Now, I’ll only add here, 

While the end I am near 
Of my letter so lengthy, so faulty and bold, 

That the land’s full of poor, 

Along highway and moor, 

Some hungry and starving, some freezing of cold. 


Hearts aching with sorrow, 
Awaiting the morrow 


In garret and cellar of city and town; 

You’ll find them, I know, 

In your rounds as you go. 

Good-by, Santa Claus. I’m your friend, Johnnie Brown. 


H, me! howe’er will I live through this day, 



With nothing to do, and nothing to play?” 

Said Bobbie Fillhadden to Annie his sister, 

On his forehead a bruise, on his finger a blister, — 
Two mishaps resulting from broken commands, 

Leaving time hanging heavier than lead on his hands. 
He didn’t mean to be naughty, but, you see, he forgot. 
Take warning, little friends, and obey the "do not.” 


( 84 ) 



l 


ITTLE birdie on the 


tree, 

Won’t you sing a song 
for me? 

Sing a bit, sweet birdie, 
do! 

If I could, I’d sing for you. 


Birdie flying east and west, 
Gathering scraps to build your nest, 
Stop and sing, sweet birdie, do! 

If I could, I’d sing for you. 


Birdie, do not fly away; 

Stay awhile, sweet birdie, stay. 
Sing a song, oh, birdie, do ! 

If I could, I’d sing for you. 



( 85 ) 



■i'JAVN \(^v 


PEDDLER JIM. 


B EG pardon, lone traveller, but who are you? 

Where do you live? and what do you do? 
What is your name? and what have you learned? 
If you have a trade, what have you earned?” 

” I’ll answer your questions, friend, one by one. 

I live in Duluth, and there’s where I’m from. 
Peddler Jim has long been my name, 

And all my learning will never bring fame. 

My trade is to carry around my wares, 

And the little I earn is less than my cares. 

I’ve dry goods and groceries, I’ve sugar and salt, 

I trade with the miller, I’ve corn-meal and malt; 

( 86 ) 


BE GOOD. 


I’ve needles and pins, towels, napkins, and hooks; 

I’ve pens and pencils, ink, paper, and books; 
Cream-mugs and bowls, cups, saucers, and plates; 
Pokers and tongs, stove-lifters and grates; 

Buckets and baskets, foot-rests and chairs, — 

Oh, I’m a peddler with wonderful wares! 

I carry them all in my wagon so trim, — 

Then buy something, please, from poor peddler Jim ! ” 


BE GOOD. 


OURNEYING onward through the years, 



^ Speak with kindness, cause no tears; 
Do some good along the way, 

Do a little every day. 

Never idle precious time, 

Never grumble, scold or whine; 

As far as earth is from the skies, 

Above all petty quarrels rise. 

At the failings of another, 

Be it friend, or foe, or brother, 

Never sneer, and ne’er deride, 

Help the weak, and conquer pride. 

Let no good by thee be marred, 

Let no duty seem too hard. 

In all things bravely do your best, 

And then to God we’ll leave the rest. 


( 87 ) 



THE MOON. 


'^^'HILE standing here 
upon the ground, 

I see the moon so full and 
round, 

And Wonder where it gets 
the light 

With which it shines so 
pretty-bright. 

Some say the light comes from the sun. 

Perhaps they say so just for fun ; 

But only wait till I’m a man: 

I’ll then find out, sir, if I can. 

( 88 ) 





JIMMIE likes apples and peaches 
and pears; 

But, lions and tigers, panthers and 
bears ! 

I think of each one, I think of 
them all, 

When I think of the temper of 
Jimmie McCall! 

Meet little Jimmie whenever you 
may, 

In dull, rainy weather, or on a bright 
day, 

On the wide, level road, or up on 
the hill, 

Or out at his home, or down in the mill. 



You may speak with a smile, or speak with a frown, 
Jimmie snaps his words back as cross as a clown. 
Just see, when you meet him, friends one and all, 
And you’ll find I am right about Jimmie McCall. 

( 89 ) 


DO YOUR BEST. 



Some day, when others mourn 
and fret 

O’er loss of time and work 
undone, 

That day you’ll calmly sit and view 
Your battle fought and won. 


your best, your very best, 

Nor fear what others say; 

Nor searching eye, nor critic’s 
word, — 

’Twill all come right some day. 

Do your best, your very best, 
No half- work ever pays. 

Heed not the hint of weariness, 
Be long or short the days. 


B IM ! bam ! bum ! 

Johnnie plays the drum; 
Willie plays the jews-harp, 

And thinks it splendid fun. 
Towser barks with all his might, 
While kittie runs away in fright: 
Bim ! bam ! bum ! 


( 90 ) 



T HREE little men 

And one brave hen 
Shouldered their guns for Charlton. 
They were after the fox 
That lived under the rocks 
Close by the walls of Charlton. 

" Ho ! ho ! ” screamed the hen 
To the three little men 
While marching along to Charlton. 

(. 91 ) 


BABY DUNN. 


" There, there, goes the fox; 

Right there round the rocks 
On that ledge near the walls of Charlton. 
He stole my poor chicks! 

Oh, his dreadful tricks 
When he comes our way from Charlton ! ” 



BABY DUNN. 

I GUESS you’ve heard of baby Dunn, 
Full of tricks and full of fun. 

He learned to walk six months ago, 
And daily toddles to and fro, 

From room to room, through open doors, 
O’er carpets soft, and bare, broad floors. 
Step by step, up-stairs and down, 

He climbs and creeps, with smile or frown. 

( 92 ) 


LITTLE TILLY. 


Then through the door, with face profound, 
Close studying out, there on the ground, 

A fly or beetle, worm or bug, 

On grass as soft as Persian rug; 

And there the culprit we discover, 

Our darling pet, our recreant lover. 



L ittle Tiiiy, 

Pulled a lily 
From my garden bed ; 

Little Jose 
Plucked a rose, 

With petals bright and red. 

Little Tilly, 

With her lily, 

Looked very fair and sweet. 
Little Jose, 

With her rose, 

Looked happy, bright and neat. 

( 93 ) 



” I’m going to market, so don’t 
leave the house.” 



A little old box was the house 
which she meant, 

Where they lived the year through 
without taxes or rent. 


"There’s danger abroad in many 
a shape, 

Which should you get near, you’ll 
never escape. 

For instance, there’s always that 
worrying cat, 

She never sleeps 
soundly, — and 
then, — there’s the 
trap ; 


( 94 ) 


FRISKY AND FLOSSY. 


"Two schemes of the envious housewife, you see, 

To shorten the lives of you pets, and me. 

The cat is much petted, and roams where she will, 

And the trap with choice bait, sits under the sill. 

"Besides, I’ve seen water and milk stand around, 

Which, should you fall in you surely will drown. 

But to name every danger would take me all day, 

And the sun being high I must hurry away. 

" Only heed what I’ve said, and rest at your ease, 

AYhile I go for some bread, some meat, and some cheese.” 
She hurried away, but not without fears, 

For she was a mouse of experience and years. 

But Frisky was always inclined to be naughty, 

Her mother, she said, "was too proud and haughty 
To mix with the world, or chat with a neighbor, 

Her life being nothing but worry and labor.” 

She yawned, and complained, she had nothing to do, 
Said, "the day was too long to ever live through,” 

And begged of pet Flossy, her shy little sister, 

So hard to go walking, she could not resist her. 

" O Frisky ! how can you ! ” grave Flaxy cried out, 

And, through fright and vexation, jumped wildly about. 
But Frisky and Flossy 
were soon out of 
sight, 

They’d hurry, they 
said, " and get back 
before night.” 



( 95 ) 


FRISKY AND FLOSSY. 



They tripped along lightly, soon losing all 


Nor ever once dream- 
ing of danger quite 


near. 


** Oh, dear, what is 
that?” Flossy sud- 
denly cries, 




" I’m afraid its the 
cat, — oh, what ter- 
rible eyes.” 


They ran from her sight, and crept under the sill; 

They’d stop awhile there and keep very still, 

They said, "till that horrible, terrible cat 
Should return to her sleep on the fire-hearth mat.” 

A long time they sat, two forlorn little mice; 

Then Frisky said softly, "she smelt something nice,” 

And looking around saw the prettiest house, 

" Just built,” she believed, " for some dear little mouse.” 

Then, carefully peeping, saw cheese hanging in it, 

Which she was sure she could get in less than a minute. 
" But, Frisky, you know, mother spoke of a trap, 

And did she, I wonder, mean something like that? ” 

Too late came the warning as in went her head, 

And in less than a minute gay Frisky was dead. 

Poor Flossy was dumb with fright and despair, 

And thought she should die right then and there. 


( 96 ) 


FRISKY AND FLOSSY. 



But soon lost her way and laid down to bemoan 
Her own sad condition and poor Frisky’s fate; 
Again the noise roused her but this time to late, 

For kitty was watching this poor little mouse, 
Who never got back to that cosey old house, 
From which in the morning, so merry and gay, 
Herself and bright Frisky had hurried away. 



( 97 ) 



THE ALARM. 



O NE morning in June I 
saw a droll sight, 

A whole flock of little birds, 
all in a fright. 

Each cunning little bird had some- 
thing droll to say, 

Wondering were it best to stop or 
quickly fly away. 

"Bobolink, Bobolink, 

It’s a mink, it’s a mink ! ” 
"Keep clear, keep clear, 

It’s a deer, it’s a deer!” 


DO SOMETHING GOOD TO-DAY. 


"Let us walk, let us walk, 

It’s a hawk, it’s a hawk! ” 

"Let us fly, let us fly, 

He’ll be here by and by ! ” 

" Ho ! ho ! ” called the sparrow, 

"Where’s that boy with his arrow? 

He could shoot the queer thing’ 

While we’re on the wing.” 

"Caw, caw,” said the crow, 

"I guess I know; 

Caw, caw, caw; 

• It’s a straw, it’s a straw ! ” 

"Let us laugh, let us laugh, 

It’s a calf, it’s a calf, 

As sure as I see,” 

Said chick-a-dee-dee. 

"Let us bow, let us bow, 

I’m sure its a cow,” 

Sneered the gay little robin, 

His pretty head nodding. 

Said the little brown wren, 

"I think it’s a hen.” 

And so it was, — a chicken sitting in the sun, 

Had caused all the fright, or, if you choose, call it fun. 


D O something good to-day, my dears; 
Do something good and kind; 

And in the memories of the years 
You’ll something pleasant find. 

( 99 ) 


SANTA CLAUS IN TROUBLE. 


H OW very much I’ve wondered, 

And o’er the problem pondered, 
While busy with my toys: 

If I should once grow sick or numb, 
Whatever could, or would, become 
Of all the girls and boys. 

Without a Christmas they can’t live, 
So Santa Claus must work and give ; 

But, oh, my labor’s ponderous! 

My wares, to gratify and please, 

To give youth joy, and parents ease, 
Must be both good and wondrous. 

Rushing flood and wildest panic, 
Which startle banker and mechanic, 
Dare never make me quail; 

For not a girl, nor any boys 
Could hold esteem for Santa Claus, 

If once his funds should fail. 

But I am growing old, my dears, 

And cares increasing with the years 
That multiply so fast. 

When I was young I took my ease, 
The children few, nor hard to please, 
How different was the past! 

( 100 ) 



SANTA CLAUS IN TROUBLE 

( 101 ) 



SANTA CLAUS IN TROUBLE. 


I’m busy now, both day and night; 

I plan and work with all my might 
From one year to another. 

I’ve journeymen and prentice too, — 

A helpful and industrious crew, 

Who work like bees together. 

I’ve many shops in every land 
Where busy head and busy hand 
Fashion toys and fabrics rare. 

I’ve ships in sail on every sea, 

That bring the precious goods to me 
Through all weather, foul and fair. 

On Christmas eve I’d ne’er get through 
But for the help of another crew, 

Who work with heart and hand: 

Some on teams, with coal and with wood, 
Others on foot with baskets of food, 

Hurry along over the land. 

They hunt up the needy and starving poor, 
Whom I, in my haste, from door to door 
By chance may overlook: 

Making no noise for the world to hear, 
They throw in a smile and word of cheer 
With here a toy, and there a book. 

And of such help I need much more, 

A fact I’ve hinted oft before 
In sermon, prayer, and book; 

( 102 ) 


OUR LITTLE DOG NIP. 


And here announce my need again, 
As I, with worried thought and pain 
Survey the grim outlook, 

Of thousands with no laid-up stores. 
Oh, cruel fate! as near their doors 
The wolf of hunger draws ! 

Then help me, all ye wise and good, 
And endless, boundless gratitude 
Is yours, from Santa Claus. 


e dog Nip 
his friend little Tip 
Get along very well till 
eating-time comes. 

Then Nip gets cross, 
And wants to be boss, 
And claims for himself all 
the meat and the bones. 

And poor little Tip 
Can’t even have a sip 
Of some milk, quite near on that platter. 

Nip threatens and growls, 

And bites Tip till he howls, 

And people cry, “ Oh, what’s the matter ? ” 

( 103 ) 




THE DISTRESSED OWL. 

A ^N” owl was complaining one night in the dark, 

And said he wished he could sing like a lark. 
The people all shudder, and say “Oh, that owl!” 
Whenever I sing — and all the dogs growl. 

( 104 ) 



THE DISTRESSED OWL. 


Tu-whit, tu-whoo-o, 

Kow what would you do-oo, 

If you were an owl and I were you-oo? 

Tu-whit, tu-whoo-oo-o ! 

The chickens all shiver, so I’ve been told, 

And the quite little lambs, the pets of the fold, 
Tremble, and quake, and bleat, it is said, 

As if they were far less alive than dead. 

Tu-whit, tu-whoo-o! 

Now, what shall I do-oo? 

I wish you were me, and I could be you-oo! 
Tu-whit, tu-whoo-oo-o ! 

The tree-frogs croak, and the katy-dids fuss, 

And indeed there is always a general muss 
And outcry against me, from east and from west, 
Whenever I sing to my pets in the nest. 

Tu-whit, to-whoo-o, 

Now what can I do-oo? 

As you cannot be me, and I can’t be you-oo! 
Tu-whit, tu-whoo-oo-o ! 

I croon out as well as I can my sad song, 

To cheer my darlings as night moves along. 

But sing as I may, still people cry out, 

'Whate’er can that stupid old bird be about? 
Tu-whit, tu-whoo-o, 

I wish it, I do-oo. 

That you were an owl, and I were you. 

Tu-whit, tu-whoo-oo-o! 

( 105 ) 



T HE evening sky is golden, 
The sun is going down; 
And Winkie Wee, the sandman, 
Is passing through the town. 


He stops at all the houses; 

He enters every door; 

Yet ne’er is heard a footfall 
Nor sound upon the floor. 


On every little eyelid 

He drops some grains of sand; 
And soon it seems as if a cloud 
Were shadowing the 
land, 




As heavy grow the eyelids, 

And duller grows the play; 
And from the daytime pleasures 

They sternly turn away. 

( 106 ) 


WINKIE WEE. 


And soon on chair and sofa 
You see a boy or girl, 

, As if ’twere kitty lying there 
With limbs all in a curl. 

Then hurries nurse or mamma, 

From upstairs coming down, 

And laughing, say, "ah! Winkie Wee’s 
Been going through the town.” 

And waking up the sleepy ones, 

Who rub their eyes till red, 

Each helpless little bundle 
Is hurried off to bed. 

Then prayers soft repeated, 


And tucked in cosey gown, 



( 107 ) 


CHILD’S SONG. 


THOUSAND little streamlets, 

A thousand little rills, 

Are running down the mountains, 
Are running down the hills. 
Hurry little streamlets, 

Hurry little rills; 

Hurry down the mountains 
Hurry down the hills. 

A thousand little raindrojjs 
Falling from the sky; 

Patter, patter, drop, drop, 

On the ground so dry. 

Patter little raindrops, 

Falling from the sky; 

Patter, patter, drop, drop, 

On the ground so dry. 

A thousand little sunbeams, 

Sparkling, sparkling bright; 

Coming from so far away 
Bringing us the light. 

Sparkle little sunbeams, 

Sparkle, sparkle bright; 

Coming from so far away 
Bringing us the light. 

( 108 ) 



CLICKETY, CLICKETY, CLICKETY, CLACK. 


A thousand little dewdrops 
Glittering on the flowers; 
Coming with the nightfall 
In the evening hours. 

Glitter little dewdrops 
Glitter on the flowers; 

Fast your beauty fades away 
In the morning hours. 

A thousand little children 
Hurrying off to school; 
Learning well each lesson, 
Obeying every rule. 

Hurry little children, 

Hurry on to school; 

Never fail in lessons, 

Never break a rule. 


LICKETY, clickety, clickety, clack! 

The goose is screaming, and the duck calls quack. 
Clickety, clickety, clickety, clack; 

Alas, alas, alas and alack! 

My eggs are stolen, cried the little brown hen, 

And they’ll never, I know, be brought back again. 
Clickety, clickety, clickety, clack! 

Alas, alas, alas and alack! 

Our eggs, when stolen, never get back; 

Clickety, clickety, clickety clack! 

' 109 ) 



T WO little robins sitting on a tree, 

As happy as any two birdies could be 
A thoughtless boy, passing, threw up a stone, 
Then one sad little bird flew off alone. 

Oh, naughty boy, naughty boy, what have you done! 

Think of that poor little bird flying home 

To its motherless ones, in that now stricken nest, 

To cuddle them under its sorrowful breast. 

Ah! have you no pity, and ne’er any love 
For the dear, helpless birdies, cheering arbor and grove? 
They brighten our pathway with flight and with song, 
And ne’er half, as you, have they ever done wrong. 

You’ve destroyed, as it were, a flash of earth’s light! 
You’ve covered that nest with a shadow of night. 

Think of it, naughty boy, think what you’ve done, 

And run away fast as you can, to your home. 

(HO) 



BABY. 



LITTLE round face 

With two bright eyes, 
Which almost shut 
When baby cries. 


A little round face, 

With a wee, wee hose, 

To smell the pink, 

And the sweet, sweet rose. 


A little round face, 

With two red lips, 

VYith which she smiles, 
And sweet tea sips. 

A little round face, 

With a dear little chin, 
As white as can be, 

And a dimple in. 


run 



EARLY SPRING. 


These pretty brown eyes, 
Mouth, chin and nose, 
Baby takes with her 
Wherever she goes. 


EARLY SPRING. 

J AMIE is up at rise of sun, 

The birds are on the wing, 

The bees are humming as they fly, 

For it is early spring. 

Early spring, early spring, 

Still hums the busy bee, 

Early spring, early spring, 

Says the chick-a-dee. 

Early spring, early spring, 

Hints the crocus nodding; 

Early spring, early spring, 

The gardner’s busy sodding. 

Early spring, early spring, 

Things are fresh and growing; 

The farmer ploughs the mellow ground 
Ready for the sowing. 

Early spring, early spring, 

God’s goodness sends it here; 

He never fails these precious boons, 
The seasons of the year. 

( 112 ) 



KITTY WHITEYOSE. 

H ERE’S a queer little story I once heard or dreamed, 

Or, well, no matter which, but droll and strange it 
seemed. 

^Not of ghouls, and fairies, giant Jacks and all that, 

But simply the woes of an old mother cat. 

( 113 ) 


KITTY WHITENOSE. 


She lived in a mill, full three stories high, 

And there, in the garret, half-way to the sky, 

She hid in a corner her kitties three; 

Such kitties for beauty ’twas rare to see. 

But uncertain joys, and a great many woes, 

Made life a great care to Kitty Whitenose, 

That was the name of this wonderful cat, 

Her nose being white as the miller’s hat. 

She tried her very best to lead a good life 

While she caught rats and mice, and kept out of strife. 

But a grief weighed her down, — a shadow of ill, 

As she hunted for prey, or dozed in the mill. 

Experience and wrong having made kitty wise, 

She was seen one day thinking and winking her eyes, 
Then jumped from the barrel on which she had sat 
With mind fully made up, — a determined cat. 

While the miller sat dozing that eve in his chair, 

A speech like the following came to his ear: 

"Mr. Miller, my grief is making me bold, 

And I can’t eat or sleep, till my trouble I’ve told. 

" Out there in the mill-dam, again and again — 

Oh, the thought should bring tears to your eyes like rain — 
You’ve drowned my poor pets by two’s and by three’s; 
Since the first cruel act I’ve never known ease. 

"With their faint plaintive mews sounding still in my ear, 
I’m filled with forebodings, and trembling with fear 
For the beautiful darlings, those kitties, three, 

In the garret asleep, belonging to me. 

( 114 ) 


KITTY WHITE NOSE. 



"Now, tell me, good man, what, under the sun, 

I could ever have said, failed in, or done, 

To make you so hard and cruel to me? 

I put the case strongly, but then, don’t you see 

" I could serve you much better, and work with more cheer, 
Might my kitties but live, and I bring them down here! 
Oh, for once in your life be good to me, 

And spare me my darlings, my kitties, three.” 

The miller awoke and stood up on the floor, 

Just as kitty was hurrying out of the door. 

Dear me, have I dreamed, or what can it be! 

I thought that old cat was talking to me! 

( 115 ) 


STRIKE WHILE THE IRON’S HOT. 


More troubled and anxious grew kitty each day, 
And finally hid her three darlings away 
Where the miller, I know, had he hunted around 
A week in that mill, could never have found. 

So, the kitties lived on and grew fat as snails; 
They scampered about and played with their tails. 
They dined every day on very choice rat, 

Each kitty becoming in time a fine cat. 


STRIKE WHILE THE IRON’S HOT. 

while the iron’s hot, my man, 

Strike while the iron’s hot ; 

He who lacks the will or nerve, 
Lives through a weary lot. 

Strike while the iron’s hot, my man ; 

Act out the sudden thought, 

Nor lag while chance or time’s at 
hand, 

Quick show some good work wrought. 

Then strike while the iron’s hot, 

Strike quick and true the blow 
That shapes thy work, that shapes thy life, 

And into master workman grow. 

( 116 ) 



2>V=i 



P RAY, what’s in your basket 
Little girl, may I ask it, 

As you’re hurrying away from the town? 

Ah, there is in my basket, 

A beautiful casket, 

With jewels more precious than all the queen’s crown: 


Gifts from grandmother 
To me and to brother; 

Two Bibles, gilt-edged, and covered with brown. 
That is what’s in my basket; 

And indeed you may ask it, 

And look at them, too, if you’ll come and sit down. 

(H7) 



| | IM, ham, 

Hum, hum ; 

I 1 Tin pan 
< And kettle-drum. 

Josie and John, two little boys, 

Were bound to fill the world with noise. 

Him, ham, 

Hum hum ; 

Harry ran 
To see the fun. 

Joe Green brought his horn, and Will McAfee, 
Came rushing along the fun to see. 

Dan Ort hurried out with an old violin, 

Then such a noise, and such a din, 

( 118 ) 


THE HOLIDAY. 


I give you my word, 

Was never heard 

In that town before; 

And at every door, 

Flushed and flurried, 

People stood worried. 

"Is’t the Fourth of July?” 
Asked little Jane Fry. 

"Oh, no; I guess not, 

The weather ain’t hot,” 

Said Annie McNight, 

Who was making a kite 
For her baby brother, 

Who flew to his mother, 

When he heard the noise 
Of those fun-loving boys. 
"Well, well, I declare!” 

Said Grandmother Dare. 

" Oh me, what a racket ! ” 

Said Grandpa Sacket. 

"I can’t stand this,” 

Said old Mother Bliss. 

So good Aunt Jane 
Drove them out in the lane, 
Those thoughtless boys, 

With their racket and noise ; 

And there they had fun 
’Till set of sun; 

And they were heard to say — 
Each single one — 

’Twas the grandest day 
They ever had known. 

( 119 ) 


HOW LONG TO SLEEP. 


I WANT to sleep full four hours long,” 
Said little Willie ^Neven. 

"Oh, dear,” said Johnnie Ermentrout, 
"I want to sleep full seven.” 

"Not long enough for me are four, 

Nor yet indeed are seven; 

But add them all together, sirs, 

And I will sleep eleven. 

" Eleven hours for sleep,” said Bennie, 
"And one for meals each day; 

And then you find enough are left, 

Still twelve, for school and play. 

"I’m greatly puzzled as I think 
The matter gravely o’er, 

What can you do with all the rest 
If you will sleep but four.” 

To bed wise Bennie went at eight, 

And slept all night till seven; 

And if we count the hours between, 
We’ll find he slept eleven. 

And Bennie had not claimed too much, 
For you and I both know, 

That children must have sleep enough 
If they would healthy grow. 

( 120 ) 



A LITTLE mouse 
At our house, — 

I tell you this for fun, — 

Ran out to see 
The bumble-bee 
Playing on the drum. 

The bumble-bee was humming; 

He never called it drumming; 

Soon the frightened little mouse 
Ran back into the house, 

Because it saw old kitty coming. 

( 121 ) 





A cheery, hearty greeting 
Of good-morning as you meet 
A friend or fellow-worker 
In passing down the street, 


OOD-MORXING. 


Always say good-morning ; 
Say it with a smile, 

Let at least a friendly look 
Be on your face the while. 


Is quite an inspiration, 

And brightens up the day, 

And helps to smooth the roughness 
We find along the way. 


Then, always say good-morning; 

Say it with a will; 

Should any fail to answer, 

Say good-morning still. 


r WISTUM, twatum, tweetum, twee; 
Winakum, wanakum, come to me, 
Come to me with all your troubles, 
I’ll blow them olf like little bubbles. 
Then twistum, twatum, tweetum, twee; 
Winakum, wanakum, come to me. 


( 122 ) 



r 


BYE-LO-LAND. 

HIS rocker ’s the boat, and we’re sailing away 
O’er river and lake and silver bay; 

And soon it will reach the shining strand 
That lilies the shores of Bye-Lo-Land. 
Bye-Lo-Land, sweet Bye-Lo-Land, 

That lines the shores of Bye-Lo-Land. 
We’re sailing away, away, away, 

We’re sailing away to Bye-Lo-Land. 


Forgetting all trouble, forgetting all care, 

We’re sailing away to that land so fair, 

Where there’s never a sorrow, and never a frown, 
Where the shining sun never goes down, 

( 123 ) 



WE TOOK A WALK. 


In Bye-Lo-Land, sweet Bye-Lo-Land, 

The sun ne’er sets in Bye-Lo-Land. 

We’re sailing away, away, away, 

We’re sailing away to Bye-Lo-Land. 

Soon darling will step on that beautiful shore, 
Where, joined by babies, a dozen or more, 

They’ll pick up pebbles, and pluck bright flowers, 
And the minutes will change to golden hours, 

In Bye-Lo-Land, sweet Bye-Lo-Land, 

To golden hours in Bye-Lo-Land. 

We’re sailing away, away, away. 

We’re sailing away to Bye-Lo-Land. 


WE TOOK A WALK. 

(See Frontispiece.) 

V E took a walk one morning, 
My wee, wee friend and I, 
Ten million little jewels 
Had fallen from the sky! 

Returning we would get some; 

Alas, they all were gone ! 

The fairy little sunbeams 
Had taken every one! 

Every little jewel, 

Scattered far and nigh, 

On sparkling little sunbeams, 

Had gone back to the sky! 

( 124 ) 



UT-cut-a-ca-dasket ! 

Little girl bring your basket. 
I’ve laid you an egg for Easter- 
ly. 

Hurry, quick, and take it away. 
Cut-cut-a-ca-dasket ! 

Hurry, little girl, with your bas- 
ket. 


The little boy peeping round the 
barn 

Is up to a trick, or means some 
harm. 

He’ll take the egg and hide it 
away, 

With a dozen more, for Easter-day. 
Cut-cut-a-ca-dasket ! 

Hurry, little girl, with your basket. 



V 1 


T HOUGH kindly speech may linger long, 
This truth still plainer grows: 

That angry words outlive the kind, 

As thorns outlive the rose. 


( 125 ) 



THE DISAGREEMENT. 

H eigh, ho! heigh ho! 

Now where will we go, 
This beautiful summer day? 

To the woods; there’s a sjjring, 
And near it a swing, 

Then up and away, away. 

Heigh, ho ! heigh, ho ! 

No, no; no, no; 

Not into the woods to-day; 

But down to the run 
For there we’ll have fun, 
Bathing, and splashing the spray. 

Heigh, ho ! heigh, ho ! 

No, no; no, no; 

Not down to the run to-day; 

But out to the creek, 

Let us hurry off quick, 

We’ll sail our b&ats, — then away! 

( 126 ) 


ONE SUNSHINY DAY. 


But they could not agree 
Where to go, you see, 

That beautiful summer day. 

They were cross and unkind, 

And pouted and whined, 

’Till the sunshine and beauty had all passed away. 


ONE SUNSHINY HAY. 



NE sunshiny day, 

Our cat and dog Tray 

Went out for a walk 
together. 

The dog chased a rabbit, 

For such was his habit, 

"While puss stopped to play with a feather. 


The rabbit leaped away, 

So doggie lost his prey, 

And the wind blew off kittie’s feather. 

” Let us go home,” said dog Tray. 
"Yes, let us hurry away,” 

Said puss ; " there’s a change in the weather.” 

( 127 ) 



THE FOX STOLE A GOOSE. 

T HE fox stole a goose and ran off to the wood, 

Saying, low to himself, " won’t my dinner be good ! ” 
But soon a sharp pain, and a queer sounding snap, 
Made him moan as he found himself fast in a trap. 

Ah, but we pity him now, for it’s his nature, you know, 

A roaming, and hunting, and pilfering to go. 

We wish the poor fellow could now be let loose; 

And we wish too he never had stolen that goose. 

He’s quick and industrious, he’s sharp and he’s shrewd, 

And I’m inclined to believe he’d work if he could; 

( 128 ) 



FEED THE HELPLESS BIRDIES. 


But he cannot be useful, he doesn’t know how. 

He can never haul wood, nor draw forward the plough. 
The people feed horses, and cows, and the ox, 

But no one e’er thinks of feeding the fox. 

So all that remains, and it’s not hard of belief, 

Is for the poor fox to turn into a thief. 


FEED THE HELPLESS BIRDIES. 


EED the helpless birdies 



On a winter day, 

Feed the little darlings, 

Don’t drive one away. 

Here’s a little sparrow, 

And there another comes, 

And there’s a chick-a-dee; 

Make haste and scatter crumbs. 

The air is very frosty, 

While snow is on the ground; 
Then quickly scatter crumbs, 

All round, and round, and round. 


(129; 



THE SQUIRREL. 


VAOW, dear little squirrel, what is it you eat, 

r Bread, butter and pies, or potatoes and meat? 

If so, who cooks the food, Mrs. Squirrel, or you? 
Do tell me, I’m anxious to know how you do, 

Out there in the woods, in that hole in the tree. 

If I thought you would let me, I’d come out and see. 
"Ha, ha, ha; he, he; ho, ho, ho! What do I eat? 

Why, any way, never potatoes and meat! 

And dear Mrs. Squirrel’s not troubled with cooking. 

But call out and see, if you think it worth looking, 

To learn how we live.” Rut-a-tut; rut-a-tut-tut ; 

The squirrel had stopped to crack a choice nut. 

Ah, ha! I know now, Mr. Squirrel so sly, 

That you never eat meat or bread, now I know why; 

And why you like best living there in the wood, 

Where you have all the nuts you can wish for your food. 
Well, well, little friend, I’ll come out and see, 

But I hope you will leave just a few nuts for me. 

( 130 ) 





THE FAMILY CLOCK. 

S TATELY in that corner stands, 

With honest face and busy hands, 

The family clock, — for years has stood, 
In self-same tone and changeless mood, 
Ticking on, — through every change, 

Heeding nought, however strange. 

( 181 ) 


THE FAMILY CLOCK. 


Ticking on, through grief and mirth, 

Ticking on, through death and birth; 
Ticking, ticking, night and day, 

Ticking, ticking, time away. 

Never hasting, never resting, 

Nought thy diligence molesting. 

Through winter’s gloom, and summer’s shine, 
Attesting still the flight of time. 

Telling high and telling low, 

Telling all who come and go — 

Life is short and time is fleeting; 

This alone thine only greeting. 

Ticking, ticking, night and day, 

Ticking, ticking, time away. 

Years agone, in infancy, 

A thing of life thou seemed to me. 

Hushed me into silent wonder; 

Left my infant wit to ponder, 

As loud and clear from day to day 
I heard thee toll the hours away. 

In childhood’s years I scanned thy face, 

And learned thereon the hours to trace, 
Questioning if from elf or fairy, 

Came the tone that would not vary. 

Ticking, ticking, night and day, 

Ticking, ticking, time away. 

( 132 ) 


THREE LITTLE GOSLINGS. 



Patient mother goose 
Gazed in surprise; 
Brave father goose 
Looked very wise. 


T HREE little goslings, 

Woolly and round, 

Rolled from their prison-shells 
On to the ground. 


( 133 ) 


ONE DAY LITTLE JOHNNIE. 


The three little goslings 
Stared at the sun, 

Then hurried to the creek, 
Each dear little one. 

Mother goose followed, 
Father goose, too, 

Down to the creek. 

What else could they do? 

And there they are yet, 
Those five, as you see: 
Father goose, mother goose, 
And little goslings three. 


NE day little Johnnie was working hard, 

To haul the stones from his father’s yard. 

The yard was large, but the walk was narrow, 
And Johnnie upset his little wheelbarrow. 

Up, up, little boy, don’t mind the mishap, 

Brush off the dust and put on your cap. 

One after another, load after load, 

And soon all the stones will lie out in the road. 


( 134 ) 


CAN-AND-WILL AND CAN-BUT-WON’T ! 



-and- will and can-but-won’t ! 

A strangely different pair! 
Whoever else you fail to find, 
You’ll meet them everywhere. 


Can-and-will is brave and bright. 

"I can because I will,” says he; 
"At least, I’ll try with all my might, 
Where’er I am, on land or sea.” 


Can-but-won’t might say the same, 
And always do as well and quick, 
But will not try, and does not care, 
And duty shirks by twist and trick. 

( 135 ) 



R 


IDENTG on a rail-car, 

Choo, choo, choo ! 

Going to see auntie, 

How do you do, do, do? 


Riding on a rail-car, 

Oh, how fast we go! 
Now we’re near the station, 
And we’re going slow. 

Now the journey’s ended, 
We had a pleasant ride; 
Everybody happy, 

And not a baby cried. 

( 136 ) 











































































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